Page 51 of Texts From My Exes
He grinned. “Aaron, in case you forgot. I’m assuming you were either digging for gum or my entire background in your purse. Four years ago I was a wreck. First date, fresh off abreakup, med school burnout, pretty sure I asked if you had shrooms.”
I burst out laughing. “Yeah, and you cried because I didn’t.”
He winced. “Please tell me you’ve repressed that memory.”
“Nope. Etched in here forever.” I tapped my temple. “But hey—you made it. Graduated med school?”
“Yep. Surgeon now. And apparently money makes me more tolerable.”
Cute. Funny. Easy. And not asking for drugs this time. Score.
“So why agree to this date?” I asked.
“I didn’t even know you’d put my name up. But I hate losing, and losing you the first time? Biggest mistake I ever made. Second chances don’t fall in your lap often. Felt stupid not to take it.”
He walked over to one of the tables at the edge of the bar that gave you a fantastic view of the night sky and all the stars. “I didn’t order for you on account you might hate wine and prefer a strong whiskey, either way, let’s just talk.”
“I’m good at that.”
“Good because full disclosure I took half a valium last night when I couldn’t sleep.”
“Nervous?”
He pulled my stool out. “Nah, excited.”
It was all I needed. Chills erupted all over my body and by the time we were on drink two we’d already powered through some hummus appetizers, calamari, and then decided to order a celebratory shot.
“Tequila.” I grinned. “You live dangerously.”
“Harper, I asked for shrooms on our first date, I’m basically a bad ass at this point.”
I couldn’t stop laughing, maybe it was the drinks, or maybe it was that it was actually a really good date and I liked him. I clinked my shot with his and downed it then winced. With acough I asked. “Okay so what’s wrong with you. Do you have a fetish? Hate animals? Oh God, are you like aDexterdoctor? Tell me one bad thing because it seems like someone should have wifed, or no offense, husbanded you up a long time ago.”
He inclined his head and leaned in. “I’m a workaholic.” He shrugged and tossed his lime into his shot glass. “Honestly, I don’t half ass things so when I started to really work at the hospital I dove into it head first and realized years had gone by and I’d done nothing but eat, sleep, breathe, the hospital, friends slowly stopped asking to hang out and I woke up and realized that my rock collection would in fact not sustain me.”
“Rock collection?
“Weighs around ten pounds, had it since I first discovered Pyrite, or fool’s gold, at the age of six and have never looked back, sometimes, I go rockhounding by myself on the weekends and listen to Metallica.”
“Ah, rockhounding, yeah who doesn’t love a good rockhounding.” I smirked.
He pointed his finger at me. “It’s relaxing and you never know what treasure you might find in the dirt. I like to explore the messy things and find the diamond inside.”
My jaw dropped. “Damn, that was beautifully said.”
“I have no friends, I’ve been sitting on that one for at least two years.” He joked.
“Very funny.”
Our check came, he paid it without asking and then got up and held out his hand. “Alright, this is where the date I think is supposed to end since we aren’t onThe Bachelorthere isn’t any fantasy suite or roses but I do hope you call and ask me out for another date.”
I nodded, not committing, not even sure how to sort through my own thoughts.
“I don’t care you know,” He held both my hands. “If you’re still seeing the other guy, just give me a chance too. I’d hate to lose a potential rockhounding partner.”
“Kay.” He was different, secure, sure of himself, good looking, and funny. And it wasn’t just a checklist on paper, he checked out.
I couldn’t wait to tell Ezra, and then. Ezra.
